This is Home
by Nesorika
Summary: After a talk with Peter, Edmund realises something quite unexpected: Post LWW.


**This Is Home**

**Disclaimer: **The characters and Narnia belong to CS Lewis, and his Estate.

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"Out for a stroll in the evening air, Ed?" If I hadn't been so relieved, I might have been more annoyed. The English winter was doing its worst in Finchley, with snow battering down on the ground, often entwined with small shards of ice that seemed to catch when one least expected. Though these Winter showers were nothing like those we had encountered in Narnia, I could not but be concerned for Edmund, for Narnian Winters were always rather rough on him. Though we'd served Narnia for nearing thirty years, he had never quite shaken the past away, had never quite forgotten the shame of being a Traitor. We had long forgiven him, of course, but I had never been quite sure that Edmund had forgiven himself.

My brother turned to me, a half smile on his face, apparently not caring about the snow sticking to his clothes, or that his hair was damp and mussed in the wind as it blew about. "Can you feel it, Peter?" He asked, and I frowned, shaking my head as I moved closer, the spare coat I had brought forgotten in one arm, as I huddled my own about me.

"Feel what, Ed? The cold?"

He laughed, and it struck me that I hadn't heard such a carefree laugh in quite some time; probably the last time had been our Summer ball in Narnia. "No, Pete, not the cold." Moving to my side, he grinned, eyes twinkling in mirth, and he seemed to be almost on the edge of hysteria. Now becoming vastly concerned that my brother might finally be going mad, I frowned, searching his eyes.

"Ed, come on. Enough is enough- we need to get back inside, before we both freeze to death."

Edmund snickered, and nodded. "Alright Pete, alright…" He moved to my side, allowing me the victory of walking us back home, to where Susan stood with a hand on her hip at the back door, a scolding look on her face. As she opened her mouth to speak, Edmund stepped forward, and squeezed her hand, murmuring a few words to her. Susan's mouth closed, and she raised an eyebrow at him, before sighing in an exasperated manner, and simply ruffling our brother's hair instead. Turning her attention to me, however, had a bit of a frown on her face, and she shook her head.

"Honestly, Peter-"

"I know, Su. I know. But I wasn't going to let him freeze out there." I smiled, sweeping a slight bow before my aghast sister. "I humbly ask for your pardon, O Sister." With a humph and a small laugh, Susan was pulling me to my feet, shaking her head.

"Get in, you silly thing," she said, fondly, rolling her eyes and ushering me into the warm house before closing the door behind us to make sure that the cold did not chill the house.

A few hours later, and we were all in the livingroom, with Ed and I bundled in our warmest clothes, hot cups of cocoa passed around. Mother and Susan were talking quietly, and Lucy had gone up to bed some time ago, whilst Ed read a book, every now and then sneaking a sip of his drink. Mind moving back to what he had said earlier, in the storm, I turned to him, making sure our mother was well occupied. "Ed?"

"Hm?" He turned to me, brown eyes bright with intrigue.

"What did you mean earlier, outside?"

"Oh," Edmund laughed, a little awkwardly, apparently somewhat embarrassed by his own words. He shook his head, then sighed. "It's difficult to explain, Peter." That was it, as he managed to cajole both mother and Susan into a lively discussion about the politics of the country.

That night, as we readied for bed, the girls and mum already in their own rooms, he turned to me with a smile, "It's strange, you know. Being home."

"Yes, Ed… I think we all agree," I admitted, a little between amused and frustrated.

"No, I mean…" he hesitated. "Even when Aslan saved me, even when we were crowned, even throughout everything that happened in Narnia, I always felt… trapped. It's hard to explain," he added, as I moved to speak. "But there was almost a trace… in the air. I know it sounds balmy, and I can't really explain it very well," he added again, with a sigh. "But I was always worried that returning home would mean I returned to… how I was before,"

"You've still changed, Ed. Even mum comments on it," I pointed out, and he nodded.

"I know, and I'm more grateful than I can ever say," he sighed. "But – well, listen. Remember how I used to get during the winter?" I winced, for how could any of us forget? He'd shut himself away in the Cair's library, or worse, go out riding and we wouldn't see him for days on end. It was partially why I was so worried about him here in England; there was nowhere in Finchley, really, for him to escape.

Edmund smiled, shrugging. "There's no constriction, Peter. Sure, I've got the weight of my old reputation on me, but after the reputation of being a Traitor, I think I can find a way to resist… any temptation, so to speak." He paused, hesitating. "There's nothing here. No magic, no … whisper. No sense of Jadis, her evil – and yes, I know that we've lost the good stuff, too. Aslan, Narnia itself… but Pete, you have no idea how it feels…." He smiled, face lighting up. "I'm free, Pete. Finally, finally free."

I sighed quietly. "That's a nice thought, Ed, but we've still things to work through…"

"I know, Peter." He accepted, quietly. "And I'll do all I can. But whilst I'll always miss Narnia, I think, and whilst I wish that things here weren't as they are… we can't change those facts. Narnia was a dream, Peter, a wonderful, amazing dream of a life, but I think we've been getting it wrong," he paused, giving me another smile. "Narnia isn't home, Pete. _This_ is home."

I raised an eyebrow at him, more than a little stunned at the maturity that Edmund showed. Returning to England, I had expected – or at the very least half expected – all those nasty traits he'd had as a child to return… but he was surprising me, in the happiest of fashions. I smiled at him, slowly, reaching forward and clapping a hand on his shoulder. "This is home," I agreed softly.

_Finis_

**Author's N: **This piece is a bit strange, and didn't turn out exactly how I was expecting and/or hoping it to…. However, I'd love to know what you guys think, and creative criticisms are always welcome, too!


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